


What You Deserve

by ardentParagon (ashenRenegade)



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Book VIII: Strength, Developing Relationship, Emotional Sex, F/M, Female Apprentice (The Arcana), First Time, Halcyon Nights, Julian Devorak's Route, Original Character(s), Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-01-06 17:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18393461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashenRenegade/pseuds/ardentParagon
Summary: MC and Julian leave Portia's house with full stomachs and warm hearts, but there's something else bubbling just under the surface that the two of them are about to discover. In other words, there's a chapter's worth of buildup and another chapter of smut. You're welcome.





	1. I'll Walk You Home

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo I've never written anything beyond cutesy established relationships, angst, and fluff. This is a completely new avenue for me. I hope you guys like it because I had to show my dumb, dumb doctor some lovin'.

Today had been eventful, to say the least. Julian had found a key that was apparently instrumental to finding out more about his role, or lack thereof, in Lucio’s murder, Asra had appeared as if from nowhere, and because of his timely arrival Julian and I weren’t caught by Nadia. Truth be told, the stress of it all had been rather taxing, so the dinner we’d had with Portia (or was it Pasha?) had been a welcome reprieve. It had felt so natural, so warm, that I could have stayed there all night. We probably would have if Julian wasn’t still a wanted man. So now, instead of being curled up on Portia’s floor by the fire, he and I were meandering idly through the merchant district. At this time of night, the stalls and streets are utterly empty. The only light comes from the constant amber glow cast by the castle and the few upstairs windows that still had someone awake in them. It works out well for us; I don’t much fancy having to evade more trouble today. Julian’s gloved hand is clasping mine, fingers intertwined as he tilts his head a little to look at me. In the low light, I can see his lips curl into a handsome smile.

“You know,” he begins as we pass the bakers stall. “If you remove the fact that I’m wanted for murder from the equation, this little midnight stroll is rather nice. Usually if I’m out this late, I’m on the way home from the Rowdy Raven and it’s more of a stumble than a jaunt,”

He’s trying to get a laugh from me and he seems ecstatic when it works, my chuckle seeming to carry on the gentle breeze and linger with nothing to stifle it.

“Well, I’m glad my company is preferable to Salty Bitters,” I shoot back as we round the corner.

“My darling Cordelia, being drunk on your company is infinitely better than being drunk on even the finest Vesuvian wine,” he’s quick to retaliate, his one eye glittering with mischief and pride at his own quip.

The remark makes a warm feeling blossom in my chest despite how theatrical the delivery is. Despite him being quick to say that he doesn’t want to be close to anyone, Julian’s proclamations of affection are always so candid and open. Unlike Asra, I can read him perfectly. It feels as though we’ve known each other for years as opposed to weeks. My amused grin softens to a genuine smile as I turn towards him, pulling his head down to mine to kiss him softly, making sure to keep my affections gentle lest I come on too strong for him. I momentarily feel bad about making him stoop because of the difference in height due to his lanky physique, but he’s quick to scoop me up in his arms as though I weigh nothing. I can feel the curve of a smile on his lips as he returns the kiss with fervour, one hand curled tight around my waist and the other cupping the side of my neck. My worries about being too eager become more and more unfounded by the day. Julian always responded to anything I gave him with a fire that set us both alight. He was starved of both affection and touch and I was more than happy to provide him with a surplus of both until he was sated. This also appeared to be the case now as I feel him swinging us both from our intended trajectory and pushing my back against the wall of someone’s house. I can hear and feel the low moan that comes from him being so close to me, the hand at my neck snaking up into my hair as my own grip the collar of his shirt as some kind of desperate anchorage. It was so easy to get carried away. His moan leads to parted lips, which leads to me slipping my tongue into his mouth, which leads to his hand moving from the small of my back to grip my thigh and hoist my leg around his hip. We  _ should _ stop. We’re out in the open; anyone could come by and see us. See Julian. I should pull away and make sure he gets home safely.

But I don’t.

Instead, I encourage him. My teeth catch his lower lip and roughly bite down, earning me another desperate groan from him as I feel his hips pressing against mine. I can already feel something hard and rigid prodding insistently at the inside of my thigh and it only spurs me on. Julian had been the king of stealing feverish kisses from me and always leaving both of us unsatisfied, wanting more. There was always an interruption or an excuse, but tonight there was nothing to divert this course.  So, I try my best to make my intentions clear; gripping a handful of auburn hair and roughly pulling as his tongue dances with mine, hips canting towards his as I relish the wanton noises I get in response. It feels like there’s liquid fire coursing through my veins. I can only recall one other time where I felt so hot, so  _ needy _ , and it had been mere hours ago. My mind is flooded with the recent memory of us in the library when he found the key. So recent that I can  _ feel _ the intensity that had rolled off him in waves. It elicits a shiver from me which Julian takes as encouragement, all but pinning me between the wall and his body as I vaguely hear my name fall from his lips in a needy whisper.

_ “Kiss me, you fool,” _

_ I’d mostly meant it as a joke, but here he is talking about wanting to ravish me and looking at me like a parched man who’d just found an oasis. I can’t say I haven’t thought about what it would be like; Julian and I being…Intimate. It takes me by surprise a little when I realise just how much I want this. Want him. Before I know it, I’m above him on the desk and one of my legs is between his. He arches, reaching for the buttons on my blouse, both of us pawing at one another desperately and then— _

Then we had to cut our ravishing short. But we didn’t have to do that now. Although, I don’t particularly want my first time with Julian to be up against a stranger’s house. It takes all my effort to put a hand to his chest and gently push but he immediately pulls back. Even in the throes of passion, he’s always incredibly mindful of me and my comfort. His eyes are glassy with lust and he’s a little short of breath, as am I, but the stroke he gives my cheek is impossibly gentle.

“What is it?” he pants softly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“N-No, it’s not that. I would just…Prefer to continue this once we get you home,”

He stares at me for a moment, looking dumbstruck before clearing his throat.

“Cordelia, I--,” he trips over his words before trying again. “You know there is nothing in this world that I would treasure more than to take you home with me and show you just how much I’ve been thinking of you. Show you all the things I’ve been thinking _of_. But to ask that of you would be too--,”

“Julian,” I stop him before he starts his episode of self-flagellation, pressing my forehead to his. “You’re not the only one that wants this. I just don’t want to remember this as ‘the time we rutted like animals against a wall’. There’s plenty of time for that later. I don’t want you to overthink this and convince yourself you don’t deserve any of it. Just take me home. Please,”

For a moment, I’m worried that my plea falls on deaf ears. He looks pained and unsure, his grip loosening a little around my waist. If he truly didn’t want to do this, I wasn’t going to push him, but it was difficult to ignore the tell-tale sensation of his length prodding my thigh. My concerns are abated a little when I feel him sigh, his breath still scented with the smell of the wine Portia had managed to scrounge up at dinner. Then he leans in again, forehead resting against mine, and lets his hand stroke the line from my ribs down to the swell of my hips.

“I truly don’t understand why you’d want to commit to someone like me, Cordelia, much less allow me to have my way with you,” he begins, and I can hear the strain in his voice. “But…But I can’t deny that having you offer yourself to me is… _tantalising_ , to say the least. Are you sure you want this? If I do anything wrong, if I upset you, I couldn’t possibly forgive myself,”

Even as he speaks I feel him backing away from the wall, pulling me with him. He could let go of me whenever he wants, but he doesn’t. I gnaw my lip gently and reach up to brush some hair away from his brow, nearly whimpering myself when I hear the needy sound that’s pulled from his throat just from me touching his face.

“You told me you wanted to ravish me, Julian. Prove it to me,”

His eye widens a fraction but in an instant his hand closes around my wrist and he’s pulling me through the streets of Vesuvia, his long strides meaning I almost have to jog to keep up. Every few seconds he steals a glance my way, his gaze heated and impatient, and every time he does I feel something coiling in my stomach that’s a mix of nerves and excitement. 

 

I’m vaguely aware of us passing the shop and I see that there’s the amber glow of a lantern from the inside. Asra is back; he would want to see me. Under any other circumstances, I would have dropped everything I was doing and gone home to him and Faust. I would have given him a hard time about being away  _ yet again _ and we would have talked and laughed and drank tea at our tiny little table. Tonight, however, another option had an iron grip on my hand and had already pulled me past the door before I could even begin to give it any kind of consideration. Julian’s grip doesn’t hurt, of course, but his gloved hand clasps mine firmly and I can feel the heat of his skin seeping into the supple leather and warming my chilly fingertips. Part of me wants to say something, tell him to slow down maybe, or just break the silence as he leads me through the streets but there’s this atmosphere permeating the two of us that feeds off the silence; there’s a hunger there that’s stirring, a flame that’s beginning to crackle and devour the kindling I’d given it in the form of my permission. My mouth opens but no words come so I settle for just following him until he nearly stumbles to a halt outside his rather unassuming abode. He uses his free hand to pull a key deftly from the inside pocket of his coat and as he unlocks the door I notice his expression shift and change. Until now, the glances I’d managed to catch had shown me that he was just as eager for this as I was. He’d chewed at his lip as we walked and there was a deep flush that had lit up his cheeks and spread down his neck and chest. Now, as he pushes open the door, he stops and gives me a searching look.

“Would you, um,” he begins, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “Like to...Come in?”

Something tells me that, despite his experienced kisses telling me otherwise, Julian didn’t have much experience in the way of taking someone home. I assume it was often the other way around. So I decide to make it easy for him and step past the threshold, pulling him with me.

“I think I would,” I say as we step into the darkened room, hearing the blood roaring in my ears and the hiss of breath he takes in through his teeth.


	2. I'll Take The Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After walking him home, the Apprentice decides to spend the night with Julian. There's tension brewing, threatening to overflow, and despite this being the first time they'd done anything more than steal fevered kisses, something about this feels so very...Familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um so I didn't expect this to span more than 2 chapters but I GUESS I GOT CARRIED AWAY SO Y'ALL ARE JUST GONNA HAVE TO DEAL WITH 3. Thank you and I'm sorry.

The room beyond is blanketed in darkness once Julian shuts the door behind him, but I can vaguely make out the shape of a coffee table near the middle of the room and some chairs not too far from it. Was that a bookshelf on the far wall? My curiousity is indulged somewhat as he sweeps past me and makes a beeline for the wall on the far side of the room. His coat makes him disappear almost entirely. Just as I’m about to follow him I hear the _scratch_ of a match against the striking surface before a small pool of amber illuminates his lanky frame. He reaches out to a small bucket at the side of the fireplace, throwing in a few haphazardly chopped logs before standing up again, dusting off his gloves and giving me a toothy smile over his shoulder.

“I hadn’t intended to have company, so you’ll excuse me if it’s a bit of a mess,” he apologises, and crosses the room again to come back to me. “I have to say though, it is a most welcome surprise,”

Julian bends down to kiss me and it shocks me just how gentle he is. I can feel that fire; still there, roaring and searing hot just beneath the surface. He just didn’t want that to be all there was to it. Neither did I. When our lips part, his one grey eye is soft with affection and as his fingers trace my cheek and skim along my jaw, I feel him exhaling slowly through his nose.

“I’ve made many a deal in my time, Cordelia, but I should have made a thousand more in exchange for you,”

“You don’t need to exchange anything for me, Julian,” I frown, not resisting as he leads me into the room and sits me down on a chaise lounge which had been placed rather awkwardly by the coffee table. “Everything I’ve given you, I’ve given willingly. I don’t expect anything back,”

“And that, my dear, is precisely why I can’t help but give you what little I have in return,” he nods, kneeling in front of me and placing one of my hands over his heart.

I’m not entirely sure how the next few seconds go, but one moment he’s staring up at me in the low light with an intensity and an adoration that renders me silent and the next my neck is resting against the armrest of the chaise lounge and he’s hovering over me with his legs dangling comically off the end. Each kiss is burning hot and I can feel his hands everywhere; fingers sinking into my hips, tracing my waist, cupping my cheeks, tentatively mapping out the curve of my breasts. It’s a wave of stimulation that threatens to overwhelm me so I anchor myself by wrapping my arms tight around his neck with my fingers slipping up to tangle in some of the fiery curls at the nape. Every so often I’ll tug on them or give his lip a rough bite which unsurprisingly spurs him on. Something twists in my stomach every time he lets out a whimper or guttural moan and I’m reminded of where this was no doubt going. I found myself chasing it, anticipating it. Soon the room is filled with those desperate groans and staggered gasps, mostly coming from Julian, and at some point I notice he’s discarded his gloves. It’s most noticeable when I feel his hands shaking as they rest at the top button of my blouse (I wouldn’t have thought he would be the sort of man to have calloused fingertips, though. I suppose he _had_ been away from Vesuvia for quite a while). I feel him about to pull away either to ask for permission or say something daft so I take it upon myself to arch my back a touch. I feel him still a little as he feels my body seek out his hands, hips involuntarily bumping against his as his fingers curl around my shirt collar. He fumbles with the first button but after his fingers slip over it awkwardly a few times it finally comes undone. Everything is a touch clumsy and unpracticed and Julian is _definitely_ not used to doing the undressing. I can tell as much when I reach up to undo the clasp on his cloak and he reflexively shrugs it off, leaning down to make it easier for me as I fumble with his overshirt - or was it a doublet? - and his own hands finally seem to establish something of a rhythm in regards to my buttons. There’s a lot of failed attempts on both our ends but eventually he’s rewarded with my blouse falling away on either side of me and I toss his overshirt haphazardly on the ground. Everything’s happening so quickly. I mean, he wants this and so do I. I want it _so badly_ but I can barely breathe from the suddenness of it all. It’s too much, I need him to slow down, it’s--

 

Julian recoils with a startled yelp as one hand flies to his lip. His eye is blown wide with shock and I feel guilt and embarrassment begin to well up inside me when I realise that in my panic my magic had reacted to defend me. The electrical shock had been small and certainly not damaging in any real sense but the look in his eyes made it feel fatal.

“Julian, I’m...I’m so sorry,” I blurt out as I sit him while my hands reach for his face. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to do that, I can’t believe I was so careless,”

My fingertips skim his lip as my brows knit together. If I clear my head even a little I could summon some healing magic, maybe repair some of the tissue before it bruises or swells. Though it’s hard to focus on that when I can feel his lips curling into a smile under my fingers and even harder when his head tilts so he can kiss each fingertip.

“Ah, love,” he croons as one arm encircles my waist. “I knew getting involved with someone with such an electrifying personality would be dangerous but I do love the thrill of it,”

He waggles his eyebrows at me and I feel the tension dissipate some. He’s not hurt but more importantly he’s not offended.

“More importantly though, it seems as though we might have been getting a touch ahead of ourselves, hm? If your body acted that way on instinct, perhaps it’s best if we listen to it,”

“It’s not that,” I shake my head, watching him as his free hand comes up to trace the exposed skin of my clavicle. Despite his reasonable suggestion it seems as though he can’t bear to not touch me. “I still... _want_ all of this, Julian. So much so that it hurts. It’s just that...I’ve never, I mean, not that I can remember...Maybe we could just slow down a little?”

With every word that leaves my mouth, Julian’s expression changes from one of my rapt attention, to one of shock, and eventually one of complete understanding. He kisses my forehead and pulls me to him, shifting our position so his back is pressed against the back of the chaise lounge and my legs are on either side of him. Straddled like this, I feel more than a little exposed, but more importantly I feel more in control.

“Everything we do will be at your pace, my darling,” he kisses my cheek, then my jaw, continuing to pepper kisses along my neck. “You lead and I will dutifully follow,”

I feel as though that isn’t exclusive to our situation right now. His words do fill me with both comfort and confidence and as I shrug off my blouse to reveal the simple breastband underneath I see his eye widen and watch his hungry gaze devour every inch of uncovered skin it yields. I can feel him fidgeting a little underneath me, clearly trying to lessen some of the friction between his clothes and the impatient hardness they’re currently confining. Judging by the frustrated huff and and sight of his teeth digging into his lower lip, it doesn’t seem to help much. He waits obediently despite his painfully obvious desire, hands lingering at my sides now but never moving far save being raised above his head when I pull his shirt up and off. His wiry physique isn’t without muscle, I notice now, and when my hand explores the planes of his chest and stomach I feel muscle rippling underneath as a shiver rolls down his back. I hear him breath my name as each touch helps me commit more of him to memory, his head falling back a little as I drag my nails carefully down his chest. The pink welts disappear as quickly as they arrive but the shameless moans I get in response tell me that it had exactly the effect I wanted. I swallow, suddenly embarrassed about making demands of him. No, he wants this, _I want this,_ so there’s nothing to me embarrassed of.

“Would you like to undress me, Julian?” I ask, silver eyes meeting seafoam green, and I know the answer before anything even happens.

 

Julian just about rips off the breastband and audibly whines in anticipation as he helps me out of the simple cloth pants I’d donned for a day of exploration. Without asking, I mirror his actions and help him with his own. Now only smallclothes remained and I could tell by the look on Julian’s face that this was still one layer too many. It’s impossible to ignore the scalding heat of his hardness now straining against one more thin layer and burning the inside of my thigh. He’s panting, hair disheveled from stolen kisses and frantic undressing, and every time I reward him with a breathy moan or an arch of my back when his hands experimentally knead my breasts or explore each inch of previously covered skin I feel him twitch and see his eyes darken with lust.

“Cordelia,” he just about gets out my name, his voice rough with want. “I know I’m...I’m in no position to ask anything of you--”

“You are,”

He moans again, half in frustration as I feel his hips push up against me.

“Ah, you’re going to be the death of me, you little minx,” Is that a grin, despite all of this? “Are you going to make me beg? I think you’ll find I’m very good at it,”

I have no doubt he’s exceptional but I don’t think I can deny him any longer. He meets me halfway as our lips meet one more time, tongues dancing and lips slotting together perfectly. Each kiss had given us a chance to improve how we fit together and now it felt so natural. As if we’d done this before. It’s difficult not to let the embrace sweep me away but I just about manage to keep my mind focused on my current goal, hands sneaking downwards as I occupy Julian with a mix of teeth and tongue. The kiss is needy and messy and somehow the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. That could possibly be due to it being sufficiently distracting that Julian doesn’t notice me rising up a little to get off my underwear. He doesn’t even seem to notice that I’d managed to push his down around his thighs. If he did notice, he didn’t say anything as it happened. What he _does_ notice, however, is the feeling of me resting down against him again. I feel his fingers digging into my hips, mouth slack with shock as I feel several, staggered breaths fall against my parted lips. His rigid length now sat snugly between my legs, each rock of my hips coating him with a wetness that was quite frankly embarrassing. This all felt so...Easy. I had no memories of my past, true, but I could have sworn there was something familiar about this dance we were doing. Before I can even process it properly, I’m asking more of him. Why and how did I know what to ask him? The words leave me without so much as a stutter.

“Do you want me, Julian?” I prod, forehead resting against his. “Tell me you want me,”

He trips over his words multiple times in a desperate bid to respond, slowly pushing up against me as my hips move. If he timed it any better, he’d be inside me. I also know Julian better than to believe that’s coincidence.

“Mm, oh Cordelia,” he keens, eyes glassy. “Please believe me when I say there’s not a thing I want more in the world now than you. If this is all I could ever have again I would be a happy man. To be able to see this body, feel it under my hands, see you above me like this...Even one more time, I could go to my grave feeling fulfilled. You’re a goddess among us mere men, and if you were to give me the honour to worship you the way you ought to be, I--AH!”  

That was good enough for me. Without thinking about the possible discomfort of it all I reach a hand between us, angling him just so, and sink down onto his waiting length. Having him slowly slip inside me is a foreign feeling but the pleasure that blooms in my core and radiates out through my entire body makes up for the slight sting. I don’t rush things and for all of his desperation neither does Julian. I see a thin sheen of sweat reflecting off his forehead as he exercises an admirable amount of self restraint, eyes locked on the sight of him disappearing inside me inch by glorious inch. It’s only when he’s fully sheathed inside me and I’m fully sitting in his lap again that he exhales heavily, both of us taking a moment just to enjoy the sensation of being joined. Before we go any further, I realise that the pain I’d felt likely wouldn’t be immediately soothed, and more importantly as much as I cared for Julian I wasn’t quite ready for us to become parents yet. The two spells are relatively easy to cast, the incantations flowing quietly from my lips as I feel the cooling sensation of the first spell chasing away any lingering discomfort. The second provides me with no real feeling, but I feel...Protected. Like there’s a weight off my shoulders. Julian watches me carefully and I can tell he’s curious.

“Unless you suddenly have the urge to become a father, I figured I best do something,” I explain, relishing the stammering I get in response.

“Oh...O-Oh! I see! Well, no, I had no _immediate_ plans but are you...Are you quite sure you want me to...I mean, it’s not as if I don’t _want_ to--”

“Ilya, love, hush,” I smile, leaning forward to capture his lips one more time. The kiss is soft and unhurried, and I feel him all but melting under my touch as my hands skim every inch of exposed skin they can reach. “Less talking, less worrying. Just be here with me and let yourself enjoy something for a change,”

 

Then I start moving, and Julian still can’t figure out what to do with his hands.


	3. I'll Stay the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third and final installment in this little tryst. Cordelia and Julian finally give in to their ever increasing desire and find that this may not be as new to them as they once thought. There's something inexplicable that binds them, something that they can't ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOH BOI HERE COMES MY TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE RENDITION OF THEIR FIRST TIME.
> 
> Okay, seriously though I've never written smut before so my sincerest apologies if this isn't very good. Constructive feedback would be awesome, but I hope you enjoy <3 It might be a little short, but I didn't want to make it drag for too long. Let me know!

It takes a bit of time for me to find a rhythm that I’m comfortable with. The first few times I raise and lower myself on Julian’s lap I feel a lingering discomfort as my body adjusts to him. With every slow roll of my hips I feel things get a touch more comfortable. Everything becomes a little easier and I could have sworn that it felt familiar yet again. I try to push it from my mind, chalking it up to the exhilaration and nerves, and turn my attention to Julian. His entire body is rigid, his teeth digging into his lower lip to the point where I see blood beading there. I can see his nostrils flaring in the low light as his eye dances up and down my form as I move. He appears frozen, almost transfixed, and suddenly I have the almost unbearable fear that I’m not doing it right. Am I not doing something right? Julian has always been vocal, sometimes  _ too  _ vocal, so the fact that he’s silent makes me nervous. I swallow and slowly move to wind my arms around his neck to steady myself, slowly starting to let my body move the way that instinct tells me to. The act of sex wasn’t difficult; the hard part was turning off my brain and letting my body guide me through this. Just as I do, however, something flashes before me. Just as a wave of pleasure cascades throughout my form. A memory.

 

_ Should we be doing this? I’d only really started spending time with the doctor to help find a cure for the plague. This was purely a professional relationship, wasn’t it? Vesuvia needed us so why was I currently sitting at the edge of one of the examination tables with my legs around Dr. Devorak’s waist? Why were we lost in wanton abandon right now when the city was falling apart around us? It’s as if the doctor’s thinking the same as me because he swoops down to kiss me as he rocks back and forth between my legs, the kiss constantly being broken by breathless moans as one hand grips my thigh to hoist it a touch higher. The kiss is hurried, reckless, and desperate. The two of us needed this. We needed each other. We needed to feel anything else other than the all-consuming dread that nipped at our heels every minute of every day. That was why the two of us were pressed flush against once another and the doctor was pounding into me with a ferocity I’d never seen from him before and doubted I would ever see again. His gloved hand around my thigh clawed at the pallid skin, silver eyes boring into my own with clear purpose as his lips part from mine just enough for him to speak. _

_ “If we had the time,” he breathes as his free hand brushes sweat-soaked hair from my forehead. “I would have loved to do this properly. Learn what your favourite flower was, how you like to wear your hair, your favourite food, where you like to be touched and caressed. If I had the time, I would devote every second of it to you,” _

_ “I know,” I whimper in response, the force behind his thrusts bordering on bruising as our hips collide. “Perhaps when this is all over, we can do just that,” _

_ The doctor lets out a choked laugh as his hips snap forward again, both of us letting out strangled moans as I feel pleasure and pressure mounting to the point where my vision begins to blur a little at the edges. Before my climax washes over me and I lose all semblance of coherence and concentration, I catch his words as they land on my damp skin in a staccato of breaths. _

_ “Perhaps we can,” he agrees, now visibly shaking from head to toe. “I look forward to finding out what your favourite flower is,” _

_ Then the pleasure whisks me away, and everything fades to black. I never could have known then that I would never get the chance to tell him that I adored snowdrops. _

 

I snap back to the present to find Julian searching my face, shock written all over his sharp features. I’m not sure what just happened, but both of us had seen it. My past continues to elude me and I’m not finding any answers tonight, but it seems like the two of us have to make up for some lost time. Without missing a beat I start to rock against him in earnest, letting his length slide out by a few inches before sinking back down onto him again. With every thrust I feel that pleasure from my memory slowly beginning to build. I feel it starting where the two of us are joined and it slowly begins to consume the rest of my body, the room slowly starting to be filled by our tentative moans and sighs.

“Snowdrops are my favourite,” I murmur softly, peppering his neck and jaw in feather-light kisses. “And unless it’s a special occasion I either wear my hair down or in a ponytail,”

Julian purrs, low and content, and his hands trace unintelligible shapes along my back and thighs as he lets me dictate the pace.

“Tell me more,” he groans. “I want to know everything, my love. I don’t know what happened but I don’t want it to happen again without me knowing everything there is to know about the woman of my dreams,”

I feel a flush creeping up my chest and neck, staining my cheeks as I try to muster up the courage to speak again. Each thrust is easier now and as I move I find that the angle has gotten better over time. Every so often he’ll hit somewhere that has me seeing stars, his name rolling off my tongue which seems to send him down a similar spiral that only spurs me on. I can feel my body beginning to quake above him.

“I like sweet things. Pastries in particular,” I whimper. “A-And so far it feels good when you touch me anywhere,”

Then it’s Julian’s turn to flush, mouth hanging open as he desperately tries to catch his breath as his hands slide up my shaking form to knead and massage my breasts as I bounce on his lap. The gentle handling stokes that fire inside me that continues to rage and I find myself chasing that inferno. I can tell he’s holding himself back for as long as he can; the lean muscle of his abdomen is flexing and tensing as he desperately tries to hold on. Everything, every second of this, has been down to me. I realise it probably later than I should have. From the position to the speed to how long it lasts is all dictated by me. Julian would go along with anything so long as I was comfortable. A strong, near overwhelming wave of affection washes over me as my lips clumsily meet his once more, the needy groan spilling past them making something coil and knot in my stomach. I find myself picking up the pace, each thrust making that knot wind itself tighter and tighter, each breath becoming more laboured and frantic as both of us descend into reverent gibberish. Mumbled words of affection, whispered reassurance, breathless iterations of ‘Gods above’ and ‘don’t stop’. His hands encircle my waist, desperately gripping my hip with one hand as his free hand splays out across my shoulderblades. He holds me like a drowning man would hold a piece of driftwood keeping him afloat. His grip is hungry and desperate and I can see the way his eyes darken with his desire when he notices just how much my body quakes above him. He opens his mouth to speak, words spilling against my lips with a mix of awe and ecstasy.

“C-Cordelia, my love,” he stammers, blunt nails digging into my back. “Ah, steady. Any more of this and I might not be able to--”

“Then don’t,” I cut him off, my eyes meeting his own, and use one of my hands to grab hold of the one anchored to my hip.

He looks confused in his delirium but the point is made rather quickly when I move his hand down between us, his teeth catching and roughly biting his lower lip as he feels the heat and slickness it finds there.

“Touch me, Julian,” 

The words should have sounded like a demand. They should have carried weight. But laid bare to each other like this, bodies alight with pleasure, caused it to sound more like a plea disguised as a command. He takes it in stride and obeys without question, dextrous fingers finding the sensitive pearl I’d tried to direct him to while not breaking rhythm. The sensation is remarkable. The sheer sensitivity of the small nub means that his eager ministrations have me keening and writhing above him as my hips meet his again and again and again. Both of us unravel, his body rising a little from the back of the couch to press flush against me as our bodies become tighter and more rigid like a taut bowstring. It takes only a few more desperate rutting movements before a flash of white explodes from behind my eyes and I’m only somewhat aware of my own cries reverberating around the room and no doubt spilling out into the street. Julian’s guttural moans add to the fray, my name falling from his lips in a way that sounds like prayer as I feel him spill himself inside me. It’s warm and strange but wholly welcome. Both of his hands now steady me, pulling me to his sweat dampened body as he leans back once more. They push soaked strands of hair from my forehead, lovingly stroke my cheek and down my neck, hold me with such love and adoration that I feel tears pricking the corners of my eyes. We sit there for a time, my legs splayed awkwardly on either side of him, and hold one another. Soon, our breathing slows a touch and the shaking subsides. I feel his lips pull into a lazy smile as he kisses just under my jaw, lips ghosting over the pulse point before the two of us look at each other properly. His eyes are still unfocused but he stares at me with such reverence, such marvel, and I’m sure I must be looking at him in the same way. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is that we saw,” he whispers, eyes flitting down to my naked form. “But I’m glad we got to see how it all played out,”

I smile, nodding as I slowly begin the process of raising myself off him. He helps as best he can and carefully sets me beside him, legs across his lab, and he sets about gently massaging my calves as I feel exhaustion finally begin to take hold as the adrenaline fades.

“I...Don’t suppose there’s a spare bed for me to sleep in tonight?” I probe, searching his handsome face.

Julian pauses, staring at me like I’d just spouted gibberish, and laughs. The guffaw warms me from head to toe and when he regains his composure he nods towards a doorway at the other end of the room.

“There is. It’s mine. Or ours, depending on what you’d like this to be,”

“Ours. I like that,”

There isn’t a whole lot more that needs to be said. He helps me to my feet, both of us staggering a little, and leads me through to a humble bedroom with clothes littering the floor and an oil lamp at the bedside, long since extinguished with a dogeared book resting beside it. Julian pulls back the covers and both of us slide under, his long limbs tangling with mine in the same way they did when I’d slept next to him at Mazelinka’s. My head tucks under his just so and I can hear the steady thrum of his heart as he inhales deeply into my hair. It’s comfortable, perfect, and even though I’ve never seen him use any I can swear that I felt my magic coiling and intertwining with what must be his. It was a question for another day. Preferably not tomorrow; that would be a day for bruised hips and deep-seated but oh-so-sweet aches. 

“Goodnight, Julian,” I whisper as I feel sleep grab me, spiriting me away.

“Goodnight, Snowdrop,” he cooes.

I feel him going slack beside me as we both drift away, and in the morning we make breakfast together and spend the time learning every intricacy we’d lost due to the gaps in our memories. His favourite flower is Wolfsbane. His favourite food is lobster claws. His favourite drink is black coffee.

 

And he likes to be touched absolutely everywhere.


End file.
